


victories

by FlowerButton



Series: who lives, who dies, who tells your story [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Family, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Pre-Epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 11:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11805165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowerButton/pseuds/FlowerButton
Summary: Until she was six, Victoire was certain she had been born on the first of May.





	victories

**Author's Note:**

> Three months away from here and she comes back with a prequel? (Cue Daniel Howell's diss-track music) Not really, I'm afraid, though this does happen before Molly's in 'question everything' (cough, shameless plug to check out my other work for this series, cough)
> 
> Fun fact: I actually planned for this one to be Hugo Weasley's turn but I don't like what I've written for his and so I'm postponing it until I'm happy (or until I don't really care anymore and I just want it to be done, like with 'you know I love you so' (another shameless plug) (ultra fun fact about that: I have a folder of all the failed attempts of that one because hoo-whee was it difficult!))
> 
> I don't own any of the characters! (I know disclaimers are old news but my paranoid self can't handle not saying them!)
> 
> Enjoy!

Until she was six, Victoire was certain she had been born on the first of May. That’s when her family celebrated her birthday. The next day, they all went to a very large castle - _‘Ogwarts_ , her mother told her every year - and stayed quiet whilst the tall lady with the large hat - _McGonagall_ , her father told her every year - read out names. She would sit next to Teddy who, despite only being a year older, seemed to understand everything being said.

When she turned seven, she asked him how.

“My mum and dad died today,” he told her. “I’m sorry I don’t wish you happy birthday.”

“Yes you do,” she replied, confused. “My birthday was yesterday.”

“No,” he said. “It's today.”

Needless to say, she demanded a response from her parents when they got home. Her father, cradling her little sister in his arms, allowed his wife to lead Victoire into the living room, overlooking the beach, and the two of them spoke to her about the War.

Victoire didn’t like her birthday anymore.

The next year, her father asked if she wanted a party, with her cousins and school friends, but Victoire declined.

“I want to stay with you,” she used as an excuse.

“So what do you want for your birthday?” her father asked. Victoire shrugged.

“Nothing really,” she said, forcing nonchalance.

That year, they celebrated her birthday on the first of May again and Victoire ate a little of her chocolate cake. Teddy couldn’t come round that year, and since all her cousins were younger than her, she spent most of the day with her sister and mother in the kitchen. Her aunts and uncles flooded through the house, congratulating her for ageing another year, and she used her childish charm to pretend she was happy.

She woke up early the next day and said very little. Her father, worried about her, tried to get her to talk about her presents, about the broom that her family had bought for her collectively, and she responded with forced eagerness. It seemed to appease him, but Victoire didn’t notice his worried glance to her mother.

When they travelled to Ogwarts - _Hogwarts_ , Teddy later corrected - she sat beside Teddy and his grandma, who had sent her a birthday card the day before, and listened out for any Lupins.

Remus. Nymphadora.

She watched Teddy’s face for any emotion but he didn’t even let his lip wobble. His grandma was crying quietly, tears silently streaming down her face, and Victoire looked to her own parents for their reactions.

Fred Weasley.

It was as if she had heard it for the first time. Her eyes snapped to her father, who was crying quietly too, and her mother, who was squeezing his hand. Victoire watched her Uncle George, two seats across from them, who was sobbing loudly. Her Aunt Angelina was in tears too.

Uncle Harry. Aunt Hermione. Uncle Ron. Aunt Ginny. Uncle Charlie. Everyone was crying, their eyes rimmed with red, and Victoire felt her stomach clench.

She never wanted to celebrate her birthday again.

The next month, she met a girl in the village nearest her cottage. The girl was new in town, with long black hair and bright brown eyes, and Victoire thought she was very pretty. Her father was talking idly to Victoire’s, and so Victoire began talking to her too.

“I’m Aggy,” said the girl. “I was born on the twentieth of January. When were you born?”

“The first of May,” Victoire said. “I’m seven.”

“No, you weren’t,” her father interrupted. “You were born on the second of May.”

“Was I?” Victoire asked as if it was the first time she’d heard about it. Aggy shrugged it off, as did her father, and Victoire enjoyed playing with her.

“You must come again,” said Aggy’s father. “Aggy doesn’t have any friends yet.”

“We’d be delighted to,” Victoire’s dad replied, keeping his eye on his daughter, who was smiling broadly and unabashedly at Aggy.

Victoire’s father never brought up her changing her birthday, and so Victoire continued to do so. When the kids at school asked, she told them the first. When her teacher wanted to know, she said the first. When Teddy wished her happy birthday on the second, she stoutly informed him it was the day before.

“You can’t change your birthday,” Teddy snapped. They were sat in the garden at Teddy’s grandma’s house, under a large tree. It was sunny, which Victoire thought was a bit rude considering the day, and she had taken off her black hat that she’d worn to Hogwarts for the memorial.

“I can,” she informed him. “I don’t want today to be my birthday.”

“Why not?”

Victoire sighed in the _Teddy, you’re so silly_ way that she knew he hated, before crossing her legs. He frowned angrily.

“I don’t want to talk to you if you’re going to be rude,” he said. Victoire huffed, standing up. Teddy may have been a year older, eleven now, but Victoire was a lot angrier and he knew she held the power.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said.

“But it _is_ your birthday!” Teddy shot back. “You can’t change it!”

“Why not?” Victoire threw back. “Because today is a completely _awful_ day to be born. Your parents died, Teddy! I don’t want to share a birthday with the day everyone died! Your birthday is always celebrated on the same day because it’s a happy day, but today is an absolutely rubbish day because everyone cries and it isn’t fair, Teddy! So no! My birthday is not today!”

She stormed off, rubbing her eyes furiously, and when her mother asked why she was crying, she lied and said it was because of the service. Her mother seemed to understand and held her in a tight hug, which only made her sob more.

Teddy didn't bring up the argument again.

The next year, her birthday was important and she knew it. She was turning eleven, she would get her Hogwarts letter, and she would be going to the same school as Teddy. Three days before her birthday, her father sat down across from her and smiled. Victoire, remembering the date, tensed defensively.

“So,” he said. “I’ve decided to stay home on the second of May. What do you want to do?”

“What?” Victoire asked. Her father raised his eyebrow, the scars on his cheek lifting with it, and she corrected herself. “Pardon?”

“I’m not going to Hogwarts this year,” he repeated. “I’m staying home, for your birthday. Both your mum and I decided. She’s taking Dominique and Louis with her and then going back to Andromeda’s, so we have the entire day to ourselves. So what do you want to do?”

“We’re celebrating on the second?” Victoire wondered. “But - why? _Why?_ Did Teddy say something?” She stood up, furious with a recollection of the argument from the year before and, even though she and Teddy were friends again, she was still angry. Her fists were clenching the sides of her t-shirt as if she made to move away but her feet remained stuck to the floor. Confused, her father frowned.

“Why would Teddy say something, Vicky?”

“Because -” She paused, the anger flooding into distress, and she almost fell back onto her seat. “I hate my birthday and I always want it on the first instead of the second and I told him that I would never celebrate my birthday on the second because everyone is crying and I feel so selfish but -”

She didn’t realise she was crying until her father had his arms around her and was hushing her gently. Victoire gripped the back of his t-shirt and practically screamed into his shoulder, eyes tightly shut.

“You know,” he said quietly after she stopped wailing and her tears had reduced to sniffles, “your name was picked because of your birthday.”

“Hm?”

“Victoire. You know French, don’t you? Your mum has regular lessons for it,” her dad teased. Victoire huffed, sniffing again.

“Victory,” she replied wetly.

“Exactly,” her father remarked. “See, when you were born, your mum had been in labour for hours. She was screaming in French and I, well, I couldn’t understand her, and your Aunt Gabby was telling her to mind her language and then: there you were. Beautiful, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And your mother, she was smiling proudly and I remember this overwhelming feeling of just loving you so much. And then, then your Uncle George came into the room and told me the day and said it was destiny. A sign that the future would be better.”

“What do you mean?” Victoire asked, leaning back. Her father rubbed his thumb over her eye, brushing the tears away.

“You were born exactly a year after we won the War. Exactly. Harry Potter, your Uncle Harry, he defeated Voldemort exactly a year to the minute before you were born. And you, you were a sign. A symbol, that’s what George called you. Of victory. We had won a year before and you, you were our gift. Our prize. Our future. You were our victory. So that’s what we called you - _victory._ Victoire.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead.

“We celebrate your birthday on the first because we usually go to Hogwarts the day after and your mother and I always thought that you’d hate to have a celebration when Teddy was sad. I guess we didn’t expect it to affect you as much.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Victoire.”

“No,” she said quietly. “I just, I just thought - I don’t know,” she finished quietly. “It seems selfish to think about it but it hurts to see you cry on my birthday every year.”

“It’s not selfish,” her dad told her. “This is _your_ day and everyone else gets one but you. I can’t promise we won’t cry but I can promise that we’ll be crying for the right reasons. For our victories, not our losses. So what do you want to do this year?”

Victoire had decided. They went to Hogwarts with her mother and spent time at Andromeda’s, but Victoire didn’t feel angry anymore. She saw Teddy with the Hufflepuffs and waved, and he waved back, and she knew they would be fine. It would all be okay.

When they got home, Victoire asked if they could watch a film and, as a group of five, they settled down together on the sofa. Dominique fell asleep on their mum, Louis curled up between Victoire and Dominique, and their father brushed Victoire's hair back.

“How was today?” he asked her. “We still have leftover cake for tomorrow. And I can make pancakes if you want a re-do.”

“No,” Victoire said quietly. “No, today was perfect.”

And that, Victoire felt, was a victory in itself.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr](https://the-grape-bowl.tumblr.com) and here's a [link](https://archiveofourown.org/series/721422) to the rest of the series, or you can pop up to the top for it!
> 
> Feedback would be lovely!
> 
> Headcanons for this one: Victoire and Teddy are joined-at-the-hip-close because they're the eldest cousins and so whenever they argue, even if they go at each other like they hate one another, by the next week they're back to being good friends. Because of Teddy and Victoire's friendship, Fleur and Andromeda become friends, which gives Harry a lot of relief because he was worried Andromeda would feel left out of the Weasley family gatherings. Andromeda, Fleur and Molly Weasley eventually start a knitting club and that's how they all manage to get out enough Weasley jumpers by Christmas each year.


End file.
